


Nulli Secunda

by notlena



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F, Secret Intelligence Service | MI6, spy AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-26 02:32:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4986700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notlena/pseuds/notlena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Delphine Cormier never believed she would ever find her abilities tested within the borders of her own country; nothing and everything changes when S assigns her an unusual task that comes with more than a goal to accomplish. When patience battles with skill and humanity is eaten alive by pressure, Delphine has the last word in the life of a certain new someone under her watch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude i

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Orphan Black nor any of the characters.  
> I wrote the beginning of this while sick, and perhaps I will continue it. I found the idea very intriguing and I had to get a bit of it off my chest. No beta, all my mistakes are my own and I'm probably embarrased about them lmao.

“She is not prepared. She isn’t.”, Delphine said, decidedly. Her tone was pointed but she didn’t seem to actually entertain the idea. Her resolution was accompanied by a distant look in her eyes, as if the whole conversation was broaching a hypothetical subject rather than the woman she could see through the glass in the interrogation room, right in front of her eyes.

“She will receive the complete training, like all of us did. Like you did.”

Delphine was still largely unfazed and thoroughly disinvested until S spoke again, at her right, hovering slightly behind her like a shadow:

“Since we are pressed by time and certain other factors afferent to the mission in discussion, however, I will have you personally responsible for Agent Niehaus’ training process, effective now.”

Delphine turned sharply from where she was facing the glass to stare at her superior’s profile, eyes widened fractionally. “With all due respect, ma’am, I believe that the Training Department is better suited for such a task, seeing as I have no previous experience in mentoring.”

S didn’t turn to look at her. “Oh, but you do, Agent Cormier.”

Delphine swallowed, her shoulders tense under her suit jacket. “Hardly. What ha-”

“Nevertheless,” S interrupted unhurriedly, “Of course, miss Niehaus will be subjected to all of the range of training programmes under the Training Department, but, as I mentioned, you will oversee her performance and intervene to improve it whenever necessary with diligence. I expect nothing less from you, Agent Cormier.”

Delphine’s mind ran idly through the implications of S’ words, pondering, deciding what feasible opportunity she could muster in order to object successfully. Delphine didn’t like how little she knew about the situation, and she certainly wasn’t revelling in the fact that she couldn’t figure out the reason behind her being assigned such an odd task. But, as it was the case with everything in the SIS, asking questions was ineffective and likely dangerous to one’s person unless they were visibly task-oriented and very precise and specific. At the moment, Delphine decided that, since the questions she had at the front of her mind were requiring rather abstract answers, which S rarely provided, she would wait until prompted to speak again.

Of couse, she could pose the questions that were _expected_ of her, or rather, not of her, personally, as Agent Delphine Cormier, but of any agent in her position. When will I start the task? Will I be tasked with overseeing the full protocols involved in the introductory phase of Agent Niehaus’ training? When am I scheduled to meet in person with Miss Niehaus and what is my official status that I should present to her? Those questions she would most likely receive an answer to immediately, but they would come on their own at some point, without prompting, either via paperwork she can already foresee herself going through all night, or via S or one of her assistants, in person. She felt like sighing, in all honesty, at the very moment, but there is very little she allows herself to display, even within the secure halls of the MI6 headquarters. It’s a very valuable automatism and, sometimes, she finds that actual display of genuine reactions or emotions is quite draining and difficult to maintain over extended periods of time. Thankfully, Delphine doesn’t find herself very often in such situations, when her genuine opinions and, God forbid, feelings, should come to surface to serve her any purpose.

Her shoulder length, light blonde hair draped across the padded shoulders of her jacket as her head turned back to look through the glass. This time, she looked, really looked, at the person in front of her. The woman sat at the table, her forearms against the surface, and she appeared to be reading through some files, a patient and somewhat interested expression on her face. Delphine couldn’t quite trace her eyes, as they were partially obscured by the thick black frames of her glasses, and mentally, Delphine asserted that those glasses wouldn’t do any longer, not if this young woman would indeed undergo training to become and Intelligence Officer any time soon. Her body language wasn’t guarded at all, but Delphine couldn’t help but notice with a tinge of frustration that her relaxed pose and attentiveness to the paperwork didn’t give out much information. Not about her, not about the situation, not about what she did or didn’t know about the situation. She could know nothing more than Delphine herself, or she could know the whole meaning behind their supposed future interaction. Likely, she was in the dark about it too, Delphine thought. Why shouldn’t she be?

So no valuable clues to be gathered by studying the subject, Delphine concluded. Fine. She continued to take in her outer appearance routinely for a little longer, without much interest. The woman was wearing her black hair in dreadlocks, which, Delphine had to admit, looked quite tasteful on her, and behind her prominent glasses, she wore consistent eyeliner. Her clothing style seemed to revolve around etno motives and warm colours. Everything about her appearance, Delphine noted, was impossibly striking. That wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do at all.

“A detailed file containing your objectives and tasks within this appointment is already on your desk, Agent Cormier.” S said. “As general guidelines, I can tell you now that I want this girl on duty by the end of the month. I trust you to make sure that when the date on the calendar comes, she will be in the best shape humanly possible. You will receive reports every two days from her training supervisors on her physical and theoretical practice, and you will study them carefully and intervene where the training is less successful. While the physical and theoretical aspects of miss Niehaus’ preparation will be covered traditionally, I would like you to see to the practical approach personally. That includes counterintelligence, interrogation techniques in full, profiling, data extraction. You will teach her personally these things. This is why I want you. There is not much time. You will have to compress all you know and deliver it to her, and very soon. ”

Delphine’s glance froze on an unidentified point in the interrogation room, as she listened. “Alright.” She said as an acknowledgement. That was strange. Training typically takes much longer than that, and for good reason, which led her to believe that Agent Niehaus might not be a complete stranger to the field, after all. “Will I meet with her now?”

Her accent thickened without her notice but it gave off the right vibe. She wasn’t as much unsettled as she was annoyed and distrustful. Annoyed at how little her input seemed to matter to S at the moment, what with all “I want her under your supervision because I trust you can do it”, annoyed at the breach in conduct that seemed to happen right under her nose, and annoyed because S wasn’t even acknowledging it as such. S gave out nothing, as if daring Delphine to overstep and ask: why? Why any of this? But if anything, Delphine knew it wasn’t worth it. 

“No.” S said simply, apparently somewhat lost in her own thoughts. But not overtly. Never overtly. It wasn’t becoming of the Chief of the State Intelligence Service to outright zone out so casually. Suddenly, S turned slightly to watch her, in expectation of Delphine’s surprised comment, pinning her with an assessing look. Delphine was familiar enough with the determined set of her jaw and cold, hard gaze not to take it personally. She played along, seamlessly.

“No? I believed this is why I’ve been called here. I thought perhaps I was going to interview her myself, right now.” she said, risking a guess, making the presumptuous remark that Cosima Niehaus was in the interrogation room awaiting an interview. S didn’t comment on it.

“No. Read your paperwork, agent Cormier.”

Realizing she’d been dismissed, Delphine looked once more at the figure sitting at the table on the other side of the glass. She seemed to have finished with the paperwork and was now looking around the sterile room. Delphine looked at her just as she was pushing her glasses further on the bridge of her nose. Another habit she’ll have to get rid of, Delphine couldn’t help but notice.

She muttered her farewell to S and headed for the door, eager to read the report and get a clearer picture. 

“Delphine”, S called. Delphine only turned her head slightly and slowed her pace as S continued, “considering this a favour you’re doing for me.”

Delphine only nodded and exited the room, refusing to think of what it meant when S needed a personal favour.


	2. Prelude ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay. Any mistakes are mine.

It is close to five AM when Delphine calls Scott. His voice is slurred with sleep but he is sounds accepting and willing to listen nonetheless when he picks up: 

“Delphine? What… what happened?”

Delphine speaks in a quiet, unhurried voice. She’s got the headphones plugged in and her smartphone rests on the desk next to her elbow, on top of the file she closed in a rather compulsively neat fashion before she made the call.

“Scott.” She pauses. She fidgets with a pen in her hand, picking at its plastic clasp. She tugs it away from the pen, then lets it revert back to its place with a small noise. Clap, clap, clap. She thinks that if Scott can hear it, it might annoy him straight out of sleepiness. But that’s not why she does it. She feels uncertain, restless, and worse, she allows herself to show it, if only to herself. “Scott, I have a new assignment. Did I tell you that?”

The way she words it sounds casual, deceptively so, and Scott asks, albeit incredulously, after a short pause: “You wanna tell me about it?”

Delphine thinks Scott is very polite. Annoyingly polite all the time. She isn’t, and never was, considerate with him, and she is sure that the certain arrogance she carries herself with at all times, striding through the headquarters, demanding and impatient, must have left a poor impression on the technology and development staff, not to mention the analysts. Especially Scott, who has been the assigned technician working with her since his very first days in the SIS. Scott who is always reasonable, and patient, and eager to do the right thing. Scott’s responsibility is always to gear Delphine up, brief her, help her pull through, and she knows it. After all, it is she who has to go out there and complete the mission, day after day. Unfortunately, working with another person is challenging to Delphine from the standpoint that they usually come with a personality and the obvious implications of that. Fortunately, Scott is very amenable and, Delphine is not about to deny that, reasonably smart.

Scott would know the full details of any mission he will be required to assist her on, which is nearly all of them. Usually, they both receive the files and the instructions, and they don’t directly discuss it until Delphine is actually on the ground and in need of his guidance. Delphine is not one for inefficient conversations, so she understands why Scott might be puzzled at the moment. “You wanna tell me about it?” would sound like a redundant thing to ask considering their positions, but Delphine typically doesn’t bother to include him in deliberating her approach to the missions she is assigned, much less talk them out beforehand.

Even now, she is silent for a long time. Scott breathes a heavy sigh through the speaker, and his next words are accompanied by a faint rustle in the background. Good, he’s actually waking up. Delphine realizes she’s being insensitive and a bit dramatic, calling a person who owes her nothing at 5 AM and appearing very content not to speak anything to the point any time soon.

“So are you leaving? I haven’t gotten a file yet, I don’t know what’s next.” He’s all business now and Delphine smiles to herself condescendingly. Really, this guy is too precious. Somebody will take advantage of him someday.

“I’m not leaving.” she deadpans.

“Oh? But you said…”

“Yes. I do not know what to think of this assignment myself. I got the file this afternoon.”

“So? No location? Too many locations? An event? Want me to look it up right now?”

Delphine hears more rustling on the other end of the line and is mildly horrified to realize that the humming she hears is Scott’s laptop booting up.

“No, Scott, no. No. There is no location.” she says firmly. ”It’s not what I meant.”

“What is it, then?” he pauses for a brief moment, during which some pieces appear to click in his sleep-laced brain.”You said you’re not leaving, like, because you don’t want to leave? What happened? Oh my God, Delphine, are they sending you to the Middle East? Because I’m sorry if they do and I’m going to help you hundred percent with all I can, you know that…”

Delphine is under the impression that she let Scott get ahead of himself like this for her own amusement, but in truth, she still doesn’t know what she wants to say so she shuts up. 

He might have continued to speak, following the same idea for a while, before he stops:

“Um, Delphine? Are you still there?”

“Yes…I’m sorry to have misled you, it is nothing of the sort. I have an unusual type of mission and I admit to being somewhat confused, but no, I’m not being sent to the Middle East.”

“Thank God, but I just thought it made sense, you know, because you’re a good officer. It’s only a matter of time before they will want you out there, I think.”

Delphine is taken aback by this unusually bold statement, coming from Scott. “What do you mean?”

“Never mind, that was a bad thing to say. I’m sorry. That was bad of me to say. Just please don’t be upset. It just occurred to me that the SIS would want to send its best officers to Lebanon or something. I don’t know, I’m tired, Delphine. Sorry. I don’t actually think you will be sent anywhere near there. I hope you won’t.”

She suddenly feels very uncomfortable with his little speech, especially since it is based on the underlying assumption that she’d be troubled if she were called to such a mission. So troubled she would refuse it altogether. And call Scott in the early hours of the morning, on top of that.

“I know you don’t necessarily appreciate the sentiment, but there. I always say to myself, you have to make sure the officer has maximal chances of staying safe, and you know, I can’t make sure of that there.” He continues. 

Well, that is a very strange thing to say. Delphine realizes that perhaps it is best if she disconnects the call as soon as possible.

“Scott, I’m not going to the Middle East.” She repeats. “In fact, I am not going anywhere. I have this…this task.” She ventures, gesticulating impatiently with the pen still in her hand. “I have a file on a new recruit, her name is Cosima Niehaus, and S told me that she is to be initiated and receive full prep for field work immediately. Meaning, this woman is meant to become an intelligence officer.”

Now that she speaks it aloud, it sounds a little mundane and she doesn’t expect him to be fazed.

“And…?” he prompts.

“And do you not think this is strange? I have her file and…” she trails off while she fishes the file from underneath the phone, which she pointlessly spreads out wide, as if to show Scott it exists if he were here. She already knows what is in there well enough.

“And was she an asset? Because that would be a tad bit concerning.” Scott suggests.

“No, she wasn’t. She wasn’t anything. She had no ties with the SIS or any Intelligence agency as far as this file goes. I don’t know where she’s coming from. I don’t know why S wants her.”

“S wants her?” he asks, a curious tilt to his voice.

“S wants her.” 

“Okay, but even so, what does that have to do with you anyway? What’s your business with this new recruit person?” he huffs out a laugh, probably realizing that Delphine is not going anywhere with this conversation.

“S wants me to oversee her progress and report back to her. And not only that. S personally said to me that she wants her to undergo training quickly and smoothly, and tasked me with teaching her tradecraft, from analysis to interrogation. Everything. Scott, do you know anything about this?”

Delphine expects that if he does, he will lie and say he doesn’t anyway. Scott might never have been a case officer, but he certainly knows to keep his mouth shut.

“No, Delphine, I don’t. And it’s not my business, by the looks of it. You probably shouldn’t be telling me this.”

“I think it might be.” She interjects, just for the sake of it.

“I do not, Delphine.”

“I’m not asking you to dig, Scott. I only… I only want to see if anybody else thinks this is strange and inappropriate.”

Scott makes a vague sound of anguish. He sounds conflicted when he replies: 

“Delphine, I think this conversation is way more puzzling and inappropriate at the moment than anything I personally am aware of.”

Scott sounds almost impolite in his evasiveness. Delphine does not hurry to believe that the reason he’s doing it is because he knows something she doesn’t, but rather because he’s used to faithfully sticking to the rules. And this might not be the most compromising of phone calls, but to Scott, it might actually sound like overstepping. Like doing something he shouldn’t do. Delphine sighs.  
She’s lost count of the times she played her intel like pieces on the chess table. Offer one, take another. Play wisely, keep the other side in check. Side-stepping the rules is essential to the work she does, but you don’t really believe that until you’re out there and you’re losing time and assets and influence and intelligence unless you work with the pieces you’ve got. Scott can’t know that and to him, the contract and regulations he signed might just be the only ticket keeping him valuable and employed, and, Delphine thinks grimly, even alive.

_Not about to punch your own ticket so readily, I gather._

Scott is being so overzealous and concerned, it’s somewhat ridiculous to Delphine. It’s as far as it can get from a life or death situation, but, reasonably enough, he wants no trouble. Delphine supposes that’s fair, at least the idea of it.

“Well, Scott? Do you think this is unusual?”

“I wouldn’t know, I’m just the geek guy.”

“Yes or no?”

“I don’t know. Maybe if you think it is, then it is. You’re the case officer out of the two of us.”

“Her file says that she’s a 31 year-old scientist with a doctorate in evolutionary biology. She is very striking. I imagine people call her Professor Niehaus. I don’t understand how any of this makes her suitable for a job like mine. Or yours, for that matter, Scott.”

Scott sounds defeated when he mumbles into the phone: “If you say so, Delphine. So you want me to look into it?”

“I said a few moments ago that I do not. All is fine. Thank you for now. At what time do you come in?” she asks, conversationally.

“At eight. Why…?”

His voice has a distinct _please leave me alone_ ring to it, which doesn’t pass Delphine by.

“I’ve returned from Cyprus barely 24 hours ago. I need another gun.”

He groans. “What happened to the other gun?”

“It’s gone. Suffered a rather abrupt fall from a eleven story building.”

“Was it loaded?”

“Naturally.”

“Oh my God… But everything is alright?”

“You guessed it, everything is alright. Goodbye, Scott, thank you for your time.”

Delphine is well aware of her sarcastic side making an appearance whenever she becomes irritated. She is ready to pull her earphones out and disconnect the call, when Scott stutters out one more sentence:

“When you said that — the new scientist woman recruit… thing might have something to do with me, you were bluffing, right?”

Delphine looks at herself in the glass of the window ahead of her. The city is still dark and peaceful, and the light inside her office makes the window especially reflective, almost a black mirror. She brushes the hair away from her forehead and decides to go easy on the guy. “Of course I was. You have good instincts.”

She can hear nothing but a sucked in breath, barely, and deafening silence. Scott’s awkwardness over the small compliment is obvious when he speaks again:  
“Er, um, goodnight, Delphine, then. See you tomorrow.”

Delphine hits end before Scott’s misplaced awkwardness transitions into an attempt to acknowledge the moment or return the sentiment. She continues to look at her reflection even after the static noise of the dead line stops altogether in her earphones.


End file.
